


Through The Fire

by Radical_Anus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Drama, F/F, F/M, Graphic Description, M/M, Romance, Violence, War, light humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radical_Anus/pseuds/Radical_Anus
Summary: Overwatch is back, but they're going to need a lot more than what they've got to save the world this time. Null Sector is gaining traction and Talon is riding their tailcoats.The disgraced OW Organization's few members will need all the encouragement and support they can get. A lot of the times, from each other.ORGenji and Lucio get together through Recall. Slow Burn.
Relationships: Brigitte Lindholm/Hana "D.Va" Song, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Lúcio Correia dos Santos/Genji Shimada, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	Through The Fire

Lucio stumbled through the hatch at the back of the small transport ship, barely holding both straps of the duffel in his trembling hand. Heart hammering against his chest, he willed his knees to support his weight.

Echo breezed by him with significantly more grace than her piloting. “Welcome to the base, Lucio!” She grabbed him by his free, clammy hand and yanked him forward. “Everyone would be so glad to see you here.”

Lucio yelped, nearly dropping his bag.

If he wasn’t still so keyed up from the harrowing ride from Rio, he’d be swaying on his feet. Repairs after the Null Sector attack really ate at his energy. Helping the hospitals heal the injured and funding the reconstruction of many destroyed buildings barely gave him time to catch more than an hour’s sleep.

But having other places in the world suffer like Rio wasn’t something he would sit idly by and watch; he was clearly more useful in the field.

“Welcome back, Echo,” a voice sounded through the hangar, startling Lucio. Echo’s grip only tightened and he could swear she started thrumming.

“Great to be back, Athena!”

They banked left to a staircase. Lucio made no reservations about looking around. The place was huge; the metal fixtures were a hell of a contrast to the rock face they were built into.

This view is amazing, he thought, glancing out of one the windows they passed in the hallway.

“It really is,” Echo responded.

“Huh?” Lucio blinked owlishly at the cheerful omnic.

She gave him a wry smile at the confused knot of his brow. “I take it you didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Lucio ducked his head and chuckled. “Ah…”

“That’s okay,” Echo beamed. They made it to a pair of heavy metal doors. “I know you’re tired; we’ll get you to your room so you can rest.”

“Thanks,” he smiled sheepishly. The entrance opened and they stepped through.

The first thing to greet them was an enormous map display with a red marker blinking over the left side of Australia.

He looked around at the holo-diagrams on every other inch of available wall space and desks with their own floating screens showing statistics and constantly shifting numbers.

“No worries,” Echo waved dismissively. “Traveling takes a lot out of a person.”

“You mean traveling with you takes a lot out of a person.”

Lucio’s attention snapped to a very human woman, dark-skinned and shapely, beyond the thick rail of a bullpen in the center of the room. She casually leaned against one of the workstations, highly amused at Echo’s affronted noise.

“You take that back,” Echo let go of Lucio’s hand to level an accusing finger at the woman. “Athena, tell her to take it back.”

“Retribution mode activated,” the voice from earlier drawled through the PA. Likely Athena, if he were to guess correctly. “Take it back.”

Lucio chuckled softly, a little of the tired tension leaving his shoulders.

“Welcome to Overwatch,” the woman greeted. Her voice was low, Lucio noted—smooth, even. His gaze flitted from her blue eyes to the telltale augments around them to the undercut white hair atop her head.

She moved away from the station and ascended the short flight of stairs to take his hand in a firm handshake. “Sojourn,” she obliged. “I promise we’re all professionals here.”

“Lucio,” he returned, grinning.

Sojourn let go and turned away, beckoning him to follow. “Keep an eye on the charts until Winston gets back,” she shot over her shoulder, getting a bright affirmative from Echo.

They walked to the opposite end of the room and out, the doors sliding to a close behind them. “We’re not able to have a fancy welcome for a fancy man such as yourself,” Sojourn offered. “but we’re truly glad to have you here.”

“Nah, I’m not a fancy man at all,” Lucio objected. “I’m a simple man with simple tastes.”

Sojourn looked him in the eye, glanced at his neon-lit locks and back at him, eyebrow raised. Lucio mirrored her expression.

“In your defense,” she acquiesced. “We have no problems finding your body if Echo somehow left you in the middle of the ocean.”

Lucio choked, immediately covering his mouth.

“Go ahead and laugh,” Sojourn chuckled. “She’s crap at flying but we love her anyway.”

Lucio shook his head and snorted. He liked her already. “No doubt about it.”

A few moments of comfortable silence stretched between them. Finally allowed to relax a bit, fatigue began to creep in from the corners of Lucio’s eyes. He swallowed a yawn and blinked himself back into focus. There wasn’t much by way of interest in the drab metal hallway to keep his attention. Military bases weren’t made homey like his little base back home, after all.

“I’ve heard of your exploits in Rio,” Sojourn started at length.

“Ah,” the DJ said thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t call them exploits.”

They turned right into a hall dotted with doors.

“Good deeds, then,” she amended without missing a beat. “Good work; Vishkar doesn’t exactly have the best track record outside of India.”

“Don’t I know it,” Lucio couldn’t help the scowl that overtook his features. “But I’d do anything for my people.”

Sojourn hummed. “Of course you know, now, it’s not only Rio that’s counting on you.”

No pressure, he thought.

“You sound just like Tracer.”

The musician turned her a startled look.

Sojourn merely smirked. “Takes a while to go from shouting your prayers to God to just thinking to yourself after a flight with Echo. Some sleep should help.”

That won an embarrassed chortle from the tired man as they passed the sign, ‘Barracks,’ and into a hall lined with doors.

Lucio noted idly that not all of them had security pads, neither hand print nor keypad. But a few of them had names slotted beside them. Just as he eyed the one that said ‘Genji,’ they came to a stop to the door opposite.

It opened automatically to let them in. Lucio walked through; Sojourn remained in the hall.

The room was plain but clean with a bunk shoved against the far wall and a desk just to the right of the entrance.

“You can set the passcode to your room when you’re ready,” she advised, leaning against the frame with arms folded.

Lucio dropped his bag on to the bed and plopped down beside it, fighting the instinct to just fall back and roll over.

“If you need help, Athena can guide you,” Sojourn continued. “Feel free to roam and ask her for directions if you get lost.”

He opened eyes he didn’t know he closed at the sound of light-hearted tittering.

“Get some rest, soldier,” she smiled and straightened. “Welcome aboard.”

* * *

The dropship hovered just feet above the barren West Australian wasteland.

 _“This_ is the place?” Brigitte leapt from the still-suspended ship.

Landing silently beside her, Genji was inclined to share the same sentiment. Nothing could be seen for miles beyond the undulating blanket of humidity. He spied the readings behind his visor, sent to them before deployment.

“Athena is never wrong,” Reinhardt dropped to the ground, shaking and stirring up the scorched earth. “If this is where the frequencies came from, this is where we are supposed to be.”

The ship settled to the ground, the cloaking system activated and its pilot zipping out into the open.

“Welcome to the Outback, folks,” Lena chirped. She shielded her eyes and spied through her goggles at the vast nothingness all around. “No kangaroos?”

A high keening sound whistled from above, and they all looked up in time to see the familiar dark shape soar overhead. Moments and a fair distance later, it lowered and emptied itself of what could only be assumed to be a squad of Heavies. They seemed to fall into the earth instead of hitting the ground.

“Just what are they here for, I wonder,” Tracer hummed.

“Fat chance finding it,” Brigitte gestured toward the open land. “Nothing out here but bedrock and heat strokes.”

“Yet Talon seems to have found gold buried beneath,” Angela glided to float beside Reinhardt.

“Well,” Genji motioned toward the enemy units. “X marks the spot.”

“Nanite capsules, everyone?” Angela prompted.

A jumbled chorus of confirmation rose from the team; Brigitte chose to hold up a small satchel containing her own collection of ten blue pills before putting them back within the safe confines of her armor.

Genji very nearly forgot about them--he’d been fitted with a sizable vial of the nanite solution. It was inserted in place of one of the pistons in his shoulder. The mix was supposed to instantly heal any damage sustained from the radiation--different from any other wounds they may suffer should they wind up in a scuffle.

Zenyatta simply raised all of his holographic hands, flexing their fingers. “Do you mean these?”

They all chuckled before Angela addressed the others again. “Don’t forget, they only last for an hour at a time.”

“Then we will have to make this quick,” Reinhardt grinned.

* * *

  
He’d have to make this quick.

In the favela, you ate whatever hit that table. As long as it was food, no matter how bad it was, you ate it because that was a meal, but—.

“Oh god,” Lucio lamented softly.

Beside him, Sojourn only guffawed into her blue mug, giving him a sympathetic pat on his shoulder.

Breakfast was of shenanigan origins. Lucio sat at the table in the mess hall, nibbling on blackened toast and practically raw eggs.The sharpness of the yolk stung the back of his tongue and dribbled down his throat.

Echo looked so hopeful—so happy to make him breakfast, that he couldn’t bring himself to say anything in protest.

Lucio downed the barely edible contents with a glass of water.

“ ‘Special treatment,’ “ he mimicked, grimacing. He pushed the empty saucer away with a groan. “What a way to haze the new guy.”

“Not really, no,” Sojourn hummed. “But if it’s always this entertaining, I might suggest it to the others.”

“You,” Lucio glared, “Are a dangerous woman. Did you know that?”

“I’m not an Overwatch agent for nothing,” she chuckled.

He simply shook his head and rose to take his used things to the sink. “Overwatch is supposed to help the world, not torture its own.”

“Would that you were here when that needed to be heard,” Sojourn muttered.

“What was that?” Lucio looked over his shoulder. Sojourn dismissed the question with a noncommittal wave.

There was a beat of silence before there was a short beeping sound. Lucio looked up to see Sojourn, its source, getting to her feet.

“Hate to cut our time short,” she said, already turning to leave. “But the team’s coming in for debriefing. Feel free to choose a spot to hide the body.”

Lucio snorted and shooed her away, motioning for her to leave the mug.

Alone in the Canteen, now, he set about tidying up. If he were honest, he kind of expected to be shipped out on a mission as soon as he opened his eyes. But he wouldn’t outright complain; he finally had a full night’s sleep and even some chill breakfast company.

Sojourn was nothing like he expected. Hell, she herself wasn’t expected. But he liked her. She was approachable, amicable and actually had a decent sense of humor.

Then again, he hadn’t hit her with the dad jokes, but there was time.

Lucio sighed and made his way out of the kitchenette. It was time to scrub the rancid taste out of his mouth and work on repairing his Amplifier.

* * *

Brigitte leaned forward and stared at the massive chip in the corner of Genji’s mask. He didn’t pause in his lighthearted conversation with Zenyatta, careful to stop himself from immediately backing away. But he eyed her proximity, almost acutely aware of what he knew was exposed skin.

He felt his hackles beginning to rise and forced himself to be still. He knew what killing intent felt like, and this was not it.

“Give it here,” Brigitte finally spoke. By that time, his mentor and Reinhardt had started their own little debate, the conversation consuming everyone else’s attention.

“Pardon?” Genji did shift his position away from the young woman this time.

“I can’t know what I need to repair if I don’t look at it properly.”

She kept her hand extended, patiently waiting while still focused on that one damaged spot. It took a moment, but Genji unfastened the clips and took off the mask. He kept his head bowed, giving the piece to Brigitte. Oddly enough, he felt no eyes on him afterward.

“Their snipers are getting better,” the squire murmured, sitting up and handing it back. Her gaze lingered on the spot even as she started turning away. “But not good enough to stop me from doing my job.”

“That’s, uh, good to hear.” Genji took it and quickly donned the visor, adjusting it best he could. He still felt the cold sting of the air conditioning on his uncovered cheek.

When he looked back, she was already admonishing her godfather over something silly the crusader implied. Taking the sign as a blessing, Genji released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding before moving to join Tracer in the cockpit.

The damage to his faceplate, thankfully, was turned away from view.

“Hello, love,” she beamed. “Come to apply for the position of co-pilot?”

“If the spot is open,” Genji replied, looking out at the blue expanse outside.

“Well, it’s a tad temporary.” Tracer flipped a few switches and checked the screen to her left. “We’re due to land pretty soon.”

“No worries. Even the benchwarmers get paid,” Genji shrugged, winning a giggle from his teammate. He saw the familiar red beacon from the Watchpoint blink its greeting through the morning haze.

The mission in the land Down Under wasn’t without its hiccups and bad spots, but everyone was returning to base alive with a successful mission under their belts.

The team spilled out into the hangar, Tracer zipping through them while chattering animatedly with Reinhardt. Genji hung back, keeping pace with Dr. Ziegler. Eventually, they made it into the control room, Tracer’s attention moving to Echo fairly easily, but not forgetting to yell her acknowledgement of Winston at his desk.

They took their selected places in the small bullpen; Genji chose to lean against one of the stations while Reinhardt used his hammer for support—his armor was much too big to sit in one of the small office chairs—and Brigitte elected to just stand. Everyone else took a seat.

“You made it,” Sojourn greeted them walking through the doors and coming to lean against the rail on the platform. “Glad to have you back in one piece.”

“Mostly,” Brigitte quipped, earning a low rumble of chuckles.

Sojourn looked to Genji. “So what have we got?”

“Talon’s been scavenger hunting in Australia,” he answered. “We beat them there, but followed them to the ruins of the old Omnium.”

“The old Omnium?” Sojourn frowned and folded her arms. “That thing’s been destroyed for years. What could they possibly want out of it?”

“That’s what we went to find out. They were taking things out of underground hatches; mostly in crates.”

“Do you know what they took?”

“No,” Genji grunted. “And whatever it was, they got away with it. Heavies and snipers were everywhere and their transport was airborne long before we could get to it. Then more of them came and laid siege to Junker Town to run interference.”

“Damn.”

“But we did secure an ally in the Junker Queen,” Tracer chimed in.

“Well, that’s something,” Sojourn sighed. She braced her hands on the pipe railing. “I would expect an Omnium raid from the Null Sector. Not Talon.”

“No, small operations like this aren't their speed,” Winston agreed from his spot behind her. He seemed to be racking his brain for ideas himself. “Null Sector wouldn’t have the required units, much less the numbers to pull off a raid like this.”

“We could hazard a guess that they got omnic parts,” Sojourn mused. “But what use would they be?”

“There’s still Omnic abuse in the world, Cap,” Bridgette intoned. “Maybe they’re selling the parts on the black market for repairs to the Omnics that can’t get them anywhere else.”

“That’s almost charitable,” Sojourn commented. “Noble, even.”

And Talon and ‘charitable’ do not a match make.

“While it does make them money,” she continued, “I doubt that’s the sole purpose of the excavation.”

“Would they be in the business of producing Omnics, then?”

Sojourn cast a thoughtful look back at Echo. “To what end? There’s no functional Omnium in existence.”

“My guess is that we’ll see soon enough,” said Genji. “Until then, we will have to wait.”

“No other choice,” Sojourn agreed. “For now, that’s as good as it gets. We’ll have to put our ears to the ground, then, and see what we can find. Dismissed.”

The crew clambered to their feet and began to leave.

“Genji,” Bridgette called. “Don’t forget to bring that mask to me tomorrow.”

Already out the door, Genji raised a hand in acknowledgment before it closed behind him.

He moved on silent feet, a skill cultivated by years of training both at home, on duty, and at Nepal. 

A skill he didn't want to need anymore in this lifetime. He may have come to terms with his new body—his humanity—but Genji never quite figured out his purpose. He was useful for many things, sure, most of them lethal to his fellow man. But use did not equate to purpose. His calling.

A dagger can hang a frame, but it was meant to tear flesh. He did not want to believe that he was only a weapon.

Alas, the call to arms inspired something within his master—and this was the only way he could support: by unsheathing the sword that was himself and helping Zenyatta approach world peace the way the monk felt was right.

Whatever questions Genji held within would wait—must wait—until he saw this through with the one who helped him at his worst—saw him through to his best. 

The cyborg made a beeline for the barracks and came to a stop outside his quarters. Soft sounds from his right, however, gave him pause. Almost as soon as he noticed it, silence fell over the hall. Then came a thud and a curse.

He looked at the room on the other side of the hallway. A card with name ‘Lucio’ scrawled in thick ink-strokes was slipped into the holder on the wall. 

Genji keyed in the code to his own quarters and disappeared inside.

* * *

  
Lucio turned his room into his studio in no time. He set up sound-absorbing pads all over the walls and his computer sat just to the right of the door. He was sitting in the standard issued plastic chair at the provided metal desk with his drum pads lit up. Dark fingers tapped over them rhythmically, music pumping through the LED speakers and the noise-canceling headphones he brought with him.

He was just getting to the bridge when the music suddenly stopped. Frowning, he checked to see if the DAW stopped working—.

“Dr. Ziegler requires your presence in the Med Bay.”

 _“Fuck!”_ Lucio leapt a foot into the air, chair tilting back dangerously. 

He managed to stumble to his feet but failed to catch the chair before it fell to the side, his heart still pounding.

“Christ, Athena,” he breathed. He was starting to think she was in cahoots with Echo trying to kill him. “A little warning, yeah?”

“Med Bay,” the AI reiterated. “Your presence is needed. And I did stop the music before speaking.”

Lucio heaved a sigh and slipped on a pair of sneakers before leaving his room. 

The song was still stuck in his head though, so he kept tapping the air to the beat on his way. His concert before the resurgence was a big hit, but he knew that only one album wouldn’t suffice. So Lucio set out working on singles as long as time permitted. After all, who knew how Overwatch planned to get any money? As far as he was aware, they were doing pro-bono work under the UN’s radar. 

Maybe he’ll ask Sojourn when he saw her.

Lucio descended the stairs and entered the hangar. Athena said it was on the other side. Made sense to have it there, within reach of the injured coming in.

Lucio made his way over quickly, jogging the rest of the distance. The facility’s reinforced metal doors parted to let him in. A sudden chill from above had him turtling almost instantly. It was like stepping into a high-end hospital—the scent of disinfectant was strong.

He paced down the hall to the first open door he saw—an office. Cozy.

The floor was carpeted, centered by a wooden desk laden with books with a small picture frame off to the side, faced away from the door. Dr. Ziegler was standing on the other side of the chaos, data pad in hand as she scrolled through information.

“Oh,” she glanced up and back to the pad. “You’re here. Good.” 

There was a log moment of silence where she continued reading, completely absorbed. Did she forget he was there?

Lucio leaned forward just outside of her personal bubble. “Doc?”

The startled double take and whispered curse was all the confirmation he needed. 

“Firstly,” she cleared her throat. “I would like to thank you for volunteering your services to Overwatch. It’s an honor. Do you know why I called you here?”

“I was guessing my physical,” Lucio joked. “But since you’re so deep into that book, I assume it’s something else.”

“You would be correct.” She deactivated the pad and set it on the table then rounded the desk. She breezed by him with a passing, “Follow me.”

He noticed that she didn’t have on her wings, opting to wear a lab coat and putting her hair into a messy bun. The musician followed her into a small room.

“Strip,” she instructed. “Leave the boxers on.”

Lucio blinked owlishly, uncertain as he reached for the hem of his tank. “Why Doc, isn’t this a little soon? I mea—.”

“You have nothing I want,” she dismissed with a raised eyebrow. “Hurry along, we’ve much to discuss.”

Lucio chuckled but undressed easily enough, tossing his clothes into the chute indicated by Dr. Ziegler.

She motioned to a metal door once he was about bare. “Step into the decontamination chamber, please.”

Sufficiently sanitized, Lucio stepped out on the other side where he was met with a set of scrubs. Once he donned them, she led him through another door.

The room beyond was nearly half the size of the hangar itself. There were beds along the walls, silent monitors stood next to each one. 

“This is the Medical Center of the Watchpoint,” Ziegler motioned to the room around them, pace still brisk while heading toward the end of the room to yet another pair of doors. They entered another long hall with windows into different rooms. He read the signs jutting out of the walls overhead: X-RAY 1; Stasis 3; Observation 4…

“I understand that you are versed in healing technology,” she continued, stopping at one of the rooms labeled ‘Theatre 2.’ 

Inside was straight out of a movie, honestly. Sure hospitals advanced over the years but nothing compared to what he was seeing. It was a large space, with an operating table in the center and off to the side was a large screen. On the other end of the room were machines he couldn’t even begin to name.

Was that an _aerotrim?_

They stood on opposite ends of the operation table. She looked at him expectantly. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, belatedly. “Some.”

Ziegler nodded, tongue pushed into her cheek in thought. “Healing through sound and vibrations is quite extraordinary. That makes it a lot easier to train you for the field. While Zenyatta is good for helping me out in a pinch, more stable healing like yours is paramount to the survival of our teammates.”

No fucking pressure, Lucio grimaced. 

“Starting now, you’re going to be taught emergency and trauma care.” 

Lucio blinked. “Now, now? Or—.”

“We don’t have a lot of time to lose, so I hope you’re quick on the draw, Lucio.”

“Sure, just let me grab my Amp and—.”

“Athena, begin the simulation.” Dr. Ziegler looked at Lucio. “First lesson: be ready for anything.”

* * *

Sojourn stood at the war table in the middle of the bullpen. There were red points of interest dotted over the blue world map. The former captain kept an eye on both Europe and Australia, mind working on the connection between the two.

There was no doubt that Talon tried to take the Anubis god program back in Cairo. Whether they took it or not was still a mystery. She could only hope that they didn’t—Helix Security was great and all, but Doomfist himself walked out of their facilities. 

The dark-skinned woman chewed on her bottom lip, and shifted her weight to one leg.

Along with that, Abdul Hakim, who’d been running things ever since the Anubis project was shut down, was taken into custody and arrested. The bribery and ties to Talon weren’t surprising news, but it raised a few questions she couldn’t answer.

Many of Talon’s tracks were littered all over the eastern world. Almost foot-to-foot behind Null Sector. She wouldn’t put it past the criminal organization to make a deal with them, but Null Sector clearly wasn’t in the market for human interaction of the positive kind.

“Penny for your thoughts, Captain?”

Sojourn looked up to see Winston leaning against the rail of the platform. 

Winston was a marvel of science and human ingenuity; they said apes were the closest to humans in regards to intelligence. But for one to surpass the minds of some of the greatest in science and hold the capacity for such compassion and a sense of justice and duty… 

Yet the world couldn’t find it within itself to be reasonable with something they themselves created.

Sojourn straightened. “Trying to figure out what Talon wants and why they’re always around Null Sector. “

Winston folded his arms and seemed to think for a moment. “Talon does have a knack for being wherever chaos is. I’d wager they’re trying to push their agenda on the UN members who refused them in the past.”

Sojourn nodded slowly. “They are opportunists after all. But what keeps them on this side of the world? America is the country with the big guns.”

“And the biggest military,” Winston reminded. “Null Sector may have ships that mass produce at a moment’s notice, but the firepower America has at their fingertips would take them down through sheer force before Null Sector replenishes their armies.”

“Hm. And Talon would need one hell of a bargaining chip to get the Federal Government under their thumb.”

Sojourn sighed, running a hand down her face. 

“Speaking of the ships,” Winston leapt into the bull pen. “We never figured out where they’re making them or how they’re getting them manufactured so quickly.”

“Another problem on the growing list.” 

The former captain slammed a hand on the edge of the war table. “This is bullshit! We need hard information. We can’t just keep reacting—they’ll only be stringing us along.”

She felt a hand, large and comforting on her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” Winston rumbled. “We always figure things out.”

“No,” Sojourn shot back. “We don’t. If that were true, Overwatch never would have fallen.”

Silence fell between scientist and soldier.

That was a truth neither of them liked to face. And proof laid in the way Winston’s feet padded out of the room, and the door hissed to a close behind him. 

Sojourn did her best to ignore the chill across her shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the ending felt lame and I added more. For the new people, you won't notice xD
> 
> For those who already read and probably won't reread, I'll fling a notice up on the second chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me with you opinions! I wanna know what you think.


End file.
